I'm Not Done Changing
by DegniMan
Summary: As Aaron prepares to help Jackson end his life, the Worst Person in the World learns of their plan – and vows to thwart them.


Two people sat at a pub.

She had aged twenty years in weeks. The bags under her eyes were practically grooves etched into her once cheery face.

On the stool next to her, a young man, shoulders rounded, watched his lager grow warm. The spark had gone out of his blue eyes.

"I've got the pills," he said dully.

She swirled her glass of white wine, but didn't sip.

"When?" she said simply.

It took him a long time to respond. It was as if the question had to travel miles to reach him.

"Dunno," he finally replied. "He said something about this weekend."

The woman blinked her eyes quickly, as if she had been struck by something unpleasant.

"This weekend, then," she said.

The two sat there, staring into drinks they would never touch.

###

They were so lost in a maze of pain, they never noticed her. That was the first tip-off she had that something strange was going on. How many times had she been told over the years that she sucked up all the air in a room?

For days, she circled them, catching snatches of conversation. She picked up more than she wanted to know, scarcely believing her own ears.

Now she had heard enough.

The two didn't even notice her absence.

###

"Hello, almost son-in-law," Chas greeted Jackson, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hello, almost mum-in-law," Jackson said, surprised by the visit. "Aaron isn't here. It's just me and Joe, my carer. You remember Joe, don't you?"

"Right. Hiya."

She shot Joe a look.

Joe took the hint. "I'll just go and do some of the wash." He disappeared upstairs.

"I left Aaron down at the Woolpack. He and your mum have been there for almost two hours."

"Once they get to talking, there's no shutting them up," Jackson said, seemingly brimming with cheer.

"They're not talking at all. They've haven't said more than six words to each other."

"Well, you know Aaron. He doesn't really like my mum," he said in a conspiratorial tone, as if he was sharing some great secret with her.

Chas sat on the edge of his bed and studied everything about this handsome lad. God, he really was so beautiful. She understood why Aaron fell for him. When did lying become so easy for him? He'd say just about anything to her, she realized. This was going to be so hard.

She ran her hands through her hair. Nervous habit. Right. Both feet in and all that.

"Jackson," she said, her voice cracking. "How long have you wanted to kill yourself?"

His face burned crimson.

"Who told you that?"

"You did," she gasped. "Just now."

She raised her hand to cover her mouth and turned her head quickly, trying to control her composure.

"Thought you would've been happy."

"Happy? Over you dying?"

_Dear God, what did he think of her? _

"Let's not kid ourselves. Since I got hit by that train, you haven't approved of Aaron being with me. Now your precious boy can get on with his life."

"Oh, Jackson, I didn't need a train to disapprove of you."

She promised herself she'd be honest with him. And herself.

"I disapproved of you the first time Aaron mentioned you. I could tell – how much influence you had on him, right from the moment you met at Bar West. It scared me. I thought you might be one of those guys who'd do his head in."

"And then you got to know me."

"And then along came a train. All I could see was Aaron tying his life to you."

"To a cabbage."

"I never used those words," she said.

"I'll make sure you get the disability supporter award at this year's banquet."

"Do you know why I pushed him to date Flynn?"

He was curious.

"I knew it would never amount to anything. Flynn was fit, but he would never get under his skin. Whatever they might have had would have been simple and easy."

"Anyone tell you it's a bit mental for a mother to be jealous of her son's boyfriend?"

She nodded in agreement. "Aaron will tell you, I've never been the world's greatest mother. Wasn't so long ago that I thought he only had two possible futures, the clink or worse. You bring out the best in him, Jackson. You always have. And what about your mum?"

"My mum used to have a life of her own," he said, staring at the ceiling. "She traveled all over the world, lived life like it was one big party, and now she can have that back."

"What, you really think Hazel's gonna grab her passport after you die and head to Tripoli for afternoon tea?"

Chas didn't know Hazel well, she wasn't sure if she ever wanted to get to know Hazel, but they were both parents, and she knew that no parent ever got over the death of a child.

"The only traveling she's going to be doing is down to your headstone every Sunday to lay fresh flowers."

He looked at her, alarmed by the emotion in her voice, spilling out across her face, this odd, pre-emptive grief. He didn't know how to respond to it.

The door opened. Hazel. Aaron.

"What the hell's going on here?" Aaron demanded.

Chas forced a smile. "We were just getting caught up."

"She knows," Jackson emphasized.

"Knows? Knows what?" Aaron barked.

"Everything. You two apparently have been about the village like two bloody walking billboards that even she could figure it out."

Aaron advanced, his face tightening. "You better not be thinking about saying anything. This is between us, not you."

She knew better than to argue. "Yes, I can see, you've settled all of this."

With that, she got up and slipped out the door.

###

So, another great plan.

She had to stick her nose where it wasn't wanted.

Typical Chas.

And she got the usual reward: Aaron furious with her.

She couldn't wrap her head around it. Jackson was going to kill himself. And those two flipping idiots were going to help him. What Jackson must have done to wear them down so they'd agree to that.

And Aaron was right, who could she talk to? Call the local helpline? Like Jackson would listen to a counselor. His mind was made up. Call the police? Jackson would deny everything, and Aaron would get nicked for possession of those pills, whatever they were.

So that was it.

Suddenly an image formed in her head: A drunk stumbling around town, the town pariah, unwanted, unable to hold a job, barely tolerated by his own family.

It's not her father, Shadrach.

It's Aaron.

There was no way he was ever going to be the same after losing his true love Jackson. This was going to destroy him.

"No," she moaned, trying to will the vision away. This was not going to happen!

She knew what people said behind her back. She was the town blabbermouth. If you can't fight your reputation, you might as well live up to it. She was Chas Dingle. She snatched up her mobile.

###

Jackson led the way into the Woolpack, followed by Hazel and Aaron. He was muttering something, unaware that the two people behind him were more broken than he was. He had almost directed that state-of-the-art wheelchair over to the bar to place an order with Chas when he noticed.

He turned his head ever so much, and the chair pivoted almost 360 degrees before coming to a halt.

"What's going on here? Early Christmas party?"

Almost everyone in the village was there. At least it seemed that way. It was standing room only. There were the Dingles – Zak, Lisa, Cain, Marlon, Debbie - and the Bartons - John, Moira, Adam and Holly - and brothers Jai and Nikhil. There were others, too, Gennie and Charity and David and Katie and Andy. Even Carl showed up, looking as if he was going to bolt for the door. Paddy, Rhona and Pearl sat at a table up front.

Some of the people meant a lot to Jackson. Some of them he only knew on sight. And they were all here, waiting for him.

"Everybody decided to come out for a pint at the same time?" Aaron suggested half-heartedly.

"Think about it," Jackson said, his voice tightening.

The chair turned again and he faced Chas.

"You did this."

"Guilty as charged," Chas said from behind the bar, feigning a smile, topping off a pint and sticking a straw in the tall glass. "On the house," she offered.

"Not bloody likely," he said, looking as if he was ready to curse a blue streak. "We're leaving."

Zak and Cain stepped in front of the exit.

"You can't keep me prisoner here."

"Settle down, twinkletoes, there's no hostage crisis here," Cain said.

"We just want you to hear us out," Zak said gruffly.

"Mum, what have you done?" Aaron said, his voice a mix of anger and confusion.

Jackson slowly spun his chair to address the crowd.

"You all came here to talk some sense into the cripple?" he challenged.

"No, luv," Chas said softly. "No one's here to talk you out of anything."

Her voice broke ever so much.

"We all just want to say goodbye."

# # #

Paddy was the first.

He rose from his chair and glanced at Rhona for moral support.

"I met Jackson when he dropped off Aaron's phone," he told his neighbors. "Aaron had gone to a gay bar for the first time, and well, he didn't last long, being a new gay and all, and he ran out and dropped his mobile. I thought Aaron was dealing drugs and that Jackson was one of his customers. It's actually a funny story -"

He noticed Aaron's scowl.

"Right, some other time."

He directed his comments to Jackson.

"It wasn't that long after, was it, that you moved in with us. It was kind of a shock, really. I had never lived with someone who could do more than grunt before 10 a.m. I love zombie films, always have, and, well, they give Aaron nightmares –"

Another dirty look from the edge of the bar.

"But Jackson, you would stay up on a Friday night for the late-late marathon, and we'd have a lager, some pizza and a laugh. I really enjoyed those nights."

Paddy wrung his hands.

"I just wanted to say thanks for that."

He looked down at Rhona, who nodded approvingly, and sat back down.

"Right," Jackson said, a sour expression on his face. "I am now truly bored, so if you don't mind – "

From another corner of the Woolpack, Holly Barton stepped forward.

"You all know me," she said. "I'm the girl who made Aaron Livesy gay."

Nervous laughter rippled round the room. Even Aaron cracked a tiny smile.

"But I didn't, not really. He was always that way, but he was so angry with himself, with the world, really, and he just took it out on us because we were handy. Until he met you, Jackson," she said.

Jackson grimaced, acting as if someone was reciting the village tax code to him against his will.

Holly continued: "You made him know he weren't alone in the world. I've been thinking a lot about this – because of some of the stuff I've been through – and you gave him safe haven, and that's something none of us mates could do. Grateful, I am for that."

###

So it went, with one villager after another rising and sharing a memory about Jackson Walsh, the young builder who had become part of their small community a year ago.

Andy thanked Jackson for putting off his vacation long enough to fix that door his fist had "accidentally" run into. Declan praised Jackson's work ethic and his ability to crunch numbers, and called him the best contractor with whom he'd worked. Cain talked about how much crap he pulled on Jackson while he worked on the cottage – nothing personal – and how Jackson never backed down.

Carl even contributed, in his own stupid way.

"Aaron's less of a homicidal psycho because of you."

Chas reminded herself to water down his next set of drinks.

Finally, Pearl got to her feet, clutching a bag in her hands. "I told you, you reminded me of my grandson. The truth is, you've always been much nicer, and smarter. It always brightened my day to see you."

She seemed unsteady on her feet, and Chas and Paddy exchanged worried glances.

She reached into the bag and pulled out a pile of knitting. "I'm only half-done with this sweater. I'd like a chance to finish it proper."

Paddy helped her back to her seat. Hazel dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Jackson needed a long moment to find his voice.

"Right. Well, if everyone is through, I'm still thirsty, and I can see I'm not going to get anything good here."

"I think there's still one more left," Chas said quietly.

"That's right. The ringleader needs to speak her mind. Have at it."

Chas remained silent.

What Jackson didn't realize then was that Chas had set this entire night in motion for as much Aaron as for him. To help Jackson, she had to reach Aaron. One could not be saved without the other.

Aaron had spent the last hour chewing on his lower lip as one person after another spoke about Jackson.

_C'mon, son. Don't let me down._

"I – I have something," Aaron said.

Jackson's self-control slipped. In a voice barely above a whimper, he said, "No, please, Aaron, not you."

"I'm sorry, Jackson, I can't keep quiet. I look around this room, and I see all these people. Do you know I gave every single person here a reason to think me a right miserable prat, and I was. I did horrible things to just about everyone here – because I hated myself so much. I couldn't even imagine saying the word gay aloud, much less telling the world that I am. Until I met you, Jackson."

Jackson took in the pub. Everyone was looking at them intently.

Aaron sucked in his breath and announced loudly, "I love you, Jackson. I want everyone in Emmerdale to know that. I'm proud of it. And I never could ever have imagined saying something like that, not in my wildest dreams – or nightmares – to be honest, but it's all down to you, mate."

With that, he knelt, gently cupped Jackson's face, and in front of the entire village, he kissed him, softly, for a long moment, willing the embrace to convey the devotion he felt for this man.

Chas closed her eyes. She had never been prouder of Aaron.

"You've changed me in every way, mate," Aaron said, tears sliding down his cheeks. "And I'm not done changing. Please, mate."

"Aaron –"

Jackson felt the pressure of all the eyes in the room, and he knew what a Herculean effort it must have taken for Aaron to make himself so vulnerable. Everything in him, all the emotional fortifications he spent weeks erecting and fortifying from the world, collapsed and slipped away like a sand castle caught in a rising tide.

He began to sob.

"I can't live like this," Jackson said through his tears.

"So live for us," Aaron begged. "That's not too much to ask, is it?"

###

The next day:

Aaron showed up at her door, his face flushed, his eyes watery.

"Jackson's gone."

"What? Oh, God, no - "

"He left last night. His tetraplegic buddy Steve recommended a rehab clinic that specializes in spinal injuries. He's going for intensive counseling."

"Oh, luv, you scared the life out of me. He's in hospital, then?"

Aaron stiffened. "Yeah, something like that, and it's nine hours away and Jackson don't want anyone visiting or calling him until he feels sorted. He's set on it."

Chas softened, tried to reach out with a hand. Aaron recoiled.

"Babe, he's getting the help he needs."

"I can help him!"

"There are some things we can't do for the people we love," she said, knowing that all too well. What she wouldn't give to lift this burden from Aaron's shoulders.

"And I just have to sit here and wait?"

" 'Fraid so."

"What if – what if he doesn't come back? What if he decides he wants to stay there? Or if they fill his head with ideas and he goes to live somewhere else?"

"He won't, luv. He'll come back to you. Give him a chance."

"See what you know."

Aaron tore out, slamming the door behind him.

###

The summer of hell followed.

A hot wind blew through the village, taking more than a few people with it. Declan's father, Dermot, Holly's friend, Roz, and that slag, Eve, all left Emmerdale, and they weren't the only ones.

Aaron grew more withdrawn, more sullen, with each passing day. He came into the Woolpack to drink, which allowed Chas to keep an eye on him, but he kept to himself so much, she wasn't reassured. As the weeks slipped by with no word from Jackson, Aaron seemed as if he were imploding within himself.

###

Hazel wandered into the pub one humid July night.

She hadn't had any more contact with Jackson than Aaron.

"You must think I'm the worst mother in the world," she said as Chas poured her another glass of wine.

"Pretty sure I took that title years ago," Chas said.

Hazel couldn't meet her eyes. "I mean – agreeing to – well, you know –"

"You got caught up in your son's suffering. You would've done anything to end it. I get that."

Hazel weighed her kindness.

"Should we be hugging right now?"

"We're good."

###

At last, one night, Aaron entered the pub, shaved for the first time in weeks and dressed in a clean jersey and track pants.

"Is he back?" Chas shouted across the room.

"Would you keep your voice down!" Aaron said, sidling up to the bar.

But he couldn't contain his excitement.

"He texted me. I'm supposed to meet him here."

Chas looked over his shoulder. "Looks like you're right on time," she smiled.

Jackson wheeled through the doors, a bouquet of roses in his lap.

Aaron's eyes misted.

"Mate," he said, his voice hoarse.

Jackson locked eyes with him and beamed a glorious, bright smile.

"Come here, you," he said. "Don't make me roll all the way over there."

Aaron exhaled, crossed the distance. The two kissed tentatively once, twice, and then a third time, a trifecta that seemed to wind weeks back into seconds.

Jackson smiled again.

"Are those – those for me?" Aaron wondered.

"Err, sorry, no, I wouldn't waste flowers on your grease-stained hands. These are for yer mum. But don't worry, I've got something else in mind for you. Turned out to be a right lovely night. Feel like taking a spin 'round the block?"

"Cheers, yeah," Aaron said softly.

###

The two moved down the road, Aaron practically bouncing on his heels, so happy to be with Jackson again.

"So – how was it?"

"Hospital? Kind of like a vacation spa, with arts and crafts and sports. I was named captain of the volleyball team."

"You what?"

Jackson grinned. He'd missed teasing Aaron.

"A lot of talking. Loads of talking. I did learn a handy trick, tho'. I can shell a peanut in my mouth and spit the nut fifteen feet into a pint glass."

"You should try that at the Woolpack. We can score some drinks off me Uncle Cain."

The two stopped at a park bench. Aaron took a seat, and Jackson wheeled close to him. Aaron's eyes brimmed with hope.

"Aaron – "

Aaron darted in for a quick kiss.

"I just want to say –"

Aaron stole another one, his mouth so tender and warm against Jackson's lips.

" - _(huhn)_ that I'm sorry for what I –"

Another kiss. Aaron's tongue slipped into Jackson's mouth. Jackson welcomed it, the skin on the back of his neck practically electrified by the contact.

"- _(oohh)_ Aaron! I had a speech, Aaron. An entire speech that I wrote and memorized for you."

Aaron pressed his forehead against Jackson's, his breath hot on Jackson's face.

"Don't want no speech. Just tell me – tell me you're OK. Tell me we'll be OK."

Jackson realized how much was riding on this moment, how badly Aaron needed to be reassured. Jackson, never meaning to, had put him through so much hell. And he was still here. Loving him and only asking to be loved back.

After all those weeks in hospital, all the grueling work he put himself through, Jackson knew there was only one thing he could give him: the absolute truth.

"Aaron, we're going to be great."

###

Later that night, Chas found a moment alone in the pub with Jackson.

"So, what did you learn from that fancy head-shrinking factory?"

Jackson grinned. "I do so love your tact, mum-in-law."

"Consider yourself a Dingle, and that's how we talk to family."

"I guess that maybe to recognize and appreciate what I have – and not to dwell on what I've lost."

She looked into those big, beautiful brown eyes. He was sincere.

"You're kind of important around here, son-in-law," she said, less severely.

"I got that message. I'm much obliged. And I want you to know – I'm sorted. I'm ready to take care of Aaron for a change."

"That'd be nice. Save me from looking after him."

###

Aaron and Jackson shared a celebratory meal at the Woolpack. Both looked relieved and happy. They had gotten through the worst. Even the air around them seemed to be lighter somehow, Chas felt.

As she lingered ever so subtly a few feet away from them, she overheard Aaron telling a story about the new mechanic at the garage. He cut off a piece of roast, fed it to Jackson and continued nattering on.

Her Aaron had turned into this mature, compassionate man capable of giving and receiving unconditional love almost overnight, it seemed.

Could she take any credit for it?

No, she decided.

But it was all she could ever ask for.

###


End file.
